


This Tardiest Explorer

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-08
Updated: 2006-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All good love stories begin with a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Tardiest Explorer

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the [Princessofg](http://princessofg.livejournal.com) for helping with the structure, even though this isn't her fandom; to [Ciderpress](http://ciderpress.livejournal.com), for her long, insightful essay about the nature of Rodney McKay; to [Namastenancy](namastenancy.livejournal.com) for confirming my fears; to [Apple-pi](http://apple_pi.livejournal.com) for encouragement; and to my most beloved [Lady of Asheru](lady_of_asheru.livejournal.com) for her careful editing and thoughtful suggestions.

Rodney leaned over the railing, staring into the dark water below. Darker shapes flitted beneath the surface, dancing just ahead of the bow of the ship, the _Ghedun Angel_. The equivalent to dolphins, he wondered, or something entirely different?

"Are the bainqen here?" Teyla asked, sliding next to him. He gestured downwards, and they both bent farther over the railing. "They are beautiful," she said. "Amal says they are good luck."

Frankly, Rodney was a bit tired of the words _Amal says_ , but he simply nodded. Their steward was a nice enough guy, just a bit over-solicitous of Teyla, in Rodney's opinion. Of course, even now she was a beautiful woman. A bit more filled out, which he enjoyed, and the lines around her mouth only emphasized her generous smile.

The air grew steadily darker as the sun sank, its light filtered through the thick jungle on the west bank of the Kumyang River. "Amal says," Teyla started, so Rodney twisted his head to kiss her abruptly. She stared at him, startled, then smiled and kissed him back, pushing into his warmth. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and they gazed into the deepening shadows of the river in twilight.

When it was completely dark, the lights of the _Ghedun Angel_ reflected in the rippling water were the only sign of habitation Rodney could see. No gleam of light on the mainland, no movement of aircraft or satellite in the myriad stars, only the wavery trail of the tiny lights strung around the railings of the _Ghedun_ 's decks. The air smelled sweet with fresh water and green with the growth of the jungle. Rodney sighed, and turned with Teyla to go into the dining saloon. "Do you think we'll have fish tonight?" he asked as they entered, ducking their heads, "or fish? Or maybe, I dunno, fish?"

Teyla patted his stomach. "Whatever it is, it will be good," she said confidently, and Rodney had to admit she was right. It's just he didn't think he's ever get used to fish for dessert.

"When we reach Ardq, we shall have more than fish, Doctor Rodney," Amal said cheerfully, guiding them to their table. They were the only guests aboard the _Ghedun_ on this stretch of her voyage, so they had far too much of Amal's attention.

"Will there be passengers coming aboard in Ardq?" Rodney asked hopefully as he seated Teyla, nearly grabbing her chair out of Amal's hands.

"Oh, yes, yes, I am sorry to say. Then I will divide my time from you."

"Not a problem," Rodney said. Teyla raised an eyebrow at him, but smiled, and covered his hand with her own on the battered wooden table top.

"We will enjoy the company," Teyla said, "and of course you must see to your duties."

"Yes, yes," Amal said, folding his hands and bowing. Behind him, Bouq their waiter carried a large gleaming dark wooden tray full of tiny bowls of fishes and river-rice and what Rodney thought of as seaweed even though it came from the river. He tucked his napkin onto his lap and poured Teyla a glass of the _qoosh_. An ugly word, he thought, for something emerald green and as sweet as fresh grass.

"Life," she said, raising her glass to him.

"Life," he agreed, and sipped happily. "So Ardq tomorrow. I wonder what that will be like."

"My _qamqam_ lives in Ardq," Bouq said, smiling as he placed the bowls of food before them. "We will spend two nights there, so I will see her and my cousins."

"What's their specialty?" Rodney asked him.

"These," Bouq said, and scuffed at the floor. Rodney leaned over and saw he meant the tough woven sisal floor covering. "They weave these in Ardq. Used up and down the river. Very resistant to water-rot."

"And beautiful," Teyla said. Rodney agreed; the floor mat was woven in a complex pattern, a Serpinski series of squares bounded by squares. He nodded.

"This is from the Houdq workshop," Bouq continued. "Very famous for their fractal patterns. My family is known for a pattern called Honesty -- four lobes. For the walls, see." He gestured toward the central support through the dining saloon, and Rodney saw it was covered in another sisal mat.

"So just these? They're beautiful, but no metal work? No, ah, nothing odd?" Rodney asked, without much hope.

Bouq wrinkled his forehead, but shook his head. "I don't think so."

"That's enough," Amal said to Bouq, but kindly.

"Where are you from?" Teyla asked him as Bouq slipped away. To bring back more dinner, Rodney hoped.

"Kumyang River," he said. "My family have always worked the river. And you, Missus, where are you from?"

"I notice," Rodney interrupted, "that when we ask someone where they're from, they say what they do."

"Yes, of course. Where we live determines what we do. I am from the river, so I work the river. Bouq is from Ardq and so weaves. Or he will, when he returns from _ruowa_."

"Which is?" Rodney asked.

" _Ruowa_? It is a break in life, a rest from the ordinary. I assumed this was your _ruowa_ ; is it not?"

"A sabbatical? Huh. I guess it is." He took another sip of the qoosh. Amal bowed again, and left them to their dinner. "Thank god," Rodney muttered. "Thought he'd never go." Teyla smiled at him as she sipped her _qoosh_. "How much longer till we reach Kamdang, do you think?"

"As you have seen, Rodney, the itinerary depends on the river," Teyla said, and offered him a bit of _xonqa_ , the sweet pickled-fish-and-river-rice balls that he really did like. He accepted it grudgingly, but had to smile at its flavour, and at her pleasure.

In bed, he relaxed to the rise and fall of the water as their ship worked its way upriver to Ardq and then to Qash and then to whatever river-town that had something to trade and finally, finally, to Kamdang. He loved Kamdang. Even the name: like the bell tolling high above the world. They had to go through two more sets of locks to reach it, and he knew how time-consuming that could be even in good weather, and impossible in a storm. He sighed, thinking of Kamdang and everything there, everything he longed for.

Beside him, Teyla slept, beautiful and still. He'd never known anyone to sleep as quietly as Teyla; she was as perfect in sleep as she was awake. He felt blessed by her presence as he studied her profile in the thin starlight reflected from the water through the slatted windows into their quarters.

The river smelled heavier at night, Rodney thought. Wetter and deeper and darker. He wondered if the bainqen still danced before their bow even at night, or if they, too, slept, floating next to their family. They were supposed to be remarkably intelligent creatures, and formed life-long friendships that had been tracked by the river-men of the Kumyang. He'd listened in the smoking saloon to stories told by old men of falling in love with a bainqe.

"Why do you smile?" Teyla whispered.

"Thought you were sleeping."

"I was, but your smiling woke me up."

"I was remembering."

"Ah." She sighed, and stretched, the pallid light revealing her breasts. He touched a nipple gently, then licked it. "Silly man," she murmured. He kissed her nipple, suckled it, slid a hand down her warm skin, over her belly, between her legs. She pushed up against him, and he groaned, moving his mouth down her body, kissing her ribcage, her stomach, nuzzling into her pubic hair, licking at her while she twisted beneath him. "Rodney," she breathed, lightly touching his head, encouraging him. He shifted in their bed until he lay between her legs, licking at her, one arm stretched up so he could fondle her breasts, the other resting on her thigh, still firm and muscular. He loved this so much; how had he ever found his way here, to her?

Teyla cried out then, long and low, almost an ululation, and trembled. Her orgasms were long and slow and he knew to freeze, to let her move against his face and hand, until she relaxed. "Oh, love," she said. "Come up here." She guided his prick into her as he climbed up the bed and over her. She felt impossibly good.

"I'm too old for this," he wheezed, but he wasn't, not yet, not really; besides, he knew how to move and touch her so she'd come again, a slow rise to his hand, while he pushed and pushed until he, too, came, gasping, and rested his head against her damp breasts.

He rolled to her side, his prick trailing sticky come across her thigh. She laughed, one of his favourite noises in the world, and cleaned herself and him before kissing him. "Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "Thank you."

"Go to sleep," she murmured, so he did.

Rodney's new life had begun with a kiss. Teyla always said _all good love stories begin with a kiss_ , and Rodney always answered _well, mine certainly did_ , and they'd smile at each other. When they told the story to others, they knew the listeners assumed they were speaking about each other. And they were, really, Rodney admitted, to himself and to Teyla. They were. But when Teyla said _all_ and Rodney said _mine_ , they smiled at each other because they knew they meant that their _other_ good love stories had begun with a kiss.

Rodney liked to kiss. He was good at it; people had told him so, in words and by their responses to his kissing. He'd been teased about his oral fixation so much that he'd decided he really did have one, but he didn't think of it as a fixation. More as pleasure taken in performing something he was good at and loved to do. It had begun with a kiss, and he hoped it would end with a kiss as well.

He dreamt of John that night, as he often did; of John watching him with one raised eyebrow, something ironic on his lips. In his dream, Rodney reached out to John, who smiled at him, that smile that so few people ever were privileged to see, but Rodney couldn't reach through his dream to him this time.

Two days later they were moored at Ardq. Rodney watched small boats ferrying supplies to and from the ship. Enormous rolls of sisal flooring were stored below decks, and fresh fruit and vegetables carried to the galley, while loads of supplies picked up at towns down-river were ferried to the port market. Rodney and Teyla went ashore in one of the boats, sitting amid wicker baskets of all shapes and sizes, some as large as Rodney.

They strolled through the market, Rodney feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the activity. He'd learned to barter since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, and had some skill, but he would never be as skilled as a native. Even the infrequently used coins were variable in value, depending on how hard a bargain the buyer or seller was able to drive. He left most of the bartering to Teyla. After all, he had other reasons for accompanying her on these twice-yearly excursions.

Following her, he paid close attention not only to what was being offered for barter or sale, but to ornaments and tools. Over the years, he'd learned a different way of looking, as if he were using a peripheral vision he hadn't been aware of until he'd started this search. More rarely now than when he'd begun, he occasionally reached out and lightly tapped an object of interest. Even more rarely, he'd feel the responsive tingle that spoke to him of infinite possibilities.

Not today, though. Not this time.

Rodney watched Teyla pause for a moment beside a tray of beaten copper bracelets. She loved bracelets and wore many on her left wrist: one from Rodney's mother, several from worlds they'd visited, John's bulky wristwatch, the one he wore when he first came to Atlantis, and a braided one from Ronon. "Choose one," Rodney urged her, but she shook her head; he knew that she knew she looked too anxious. So they walked away, but Rodney marked where the seller was, promising himself that he'd find a way to return.

He didn't. The _Ghedun Angel_ pulled out before dawn the next day, loaded with carpets. "I thought we were going to spend a couple days in port?" Rodney asked Amal at breakfast. "Bouq was going to see his family."

"He is there now. The navigator says a storm is coming, so we must move on to Qash. They have a deeper harbour, so we will stay there till the water is calm again."

"Great, a storm," Rodney muttered. He glanced at Teyla, who looked sympathetically at him as she sipped her tea. The last storm they'd sat through had been out on the river, not in port, and he'd been violently sick, vomiting into a bucket while Teyla had wiped the sweat off his face and back of his neck. Maybe they could get ashore before it started. "Might as well enjoy our food while we can," he told her.

The wind began rising in the afternoon, tossing the enormous trees, their long flat leaves rippling like the river around them. The sky filled with clouds, dark and moving quickly overhead, and the light turned orange, an eerie colour that bounced off the water and turned everyone sickly looking. Or maybe, Rodney thought, it's just _mal de mer_.

The night was rough, and sharing a bed not nearly as much fun as usual. Rodney knew Teyla would have bruised ribs in the morning, but that didn't mean he deserved an elbow in his nose. "We need straps, like astronauts," he said, holding his nose. He pulled her into his arms, so they were tossed together instead of at each other.

Two families had come aboard in Ardq, and the dining saloon was full of over-excited children at breakfast, shrieking each time a wave broke or the ship rolled. Rodney took an anti-emetic with his tea while Teyla spoke with the others. They all went on deck, clinging to each other and the railings, laughing and screeching.

Rodney held Teyla's hand tightly. "Don't fall overboard," he warned. She smiled indulgently at him as she led him into the wild air. No rain yet, but the wind was fierce and slapped at them. He staggered at each gust. "Not safe out here!" he shouted, but it was exciting. They hung onto the railing and peered over at the madly surging water.

"Come in, come in!" Amal called to them, clapping his hands. "The captain forbids this!"

No one, not even Rodney, wanted to go in; the sound and sight of the world in uproar was too exhilarating, but he knew the captain was right, so he led the way back, rocking from railing to window to door. Amal grabbed his arm and helped him to a chair, Teyla sitting next to him, and then returned to help the others in. Bouq was gone, back in Ardq, but Amal had more tea ready, made on a little burner right in the saloon.

The children bounced like rubber balls, squealing in delight at the noise. One of the women looked seasick, so the other women herded her to their quarters, leaving Rodney and Teyla alone with the men and flock of children. Teyla said, "You are from Adrq?"

The oldest man shook his head. "Going home to Qts," he said. "I am Heq, and these are my sons, Liro and Less." Rodney snorted at the names, but turned it into a cough.

"I am Teyla, and this is my partner Rodney. We are going to Kamdang."

"Ahh," all the men said. "You are fortunate," Heq added, and the men bowed slightly.

"Thank you. We believe so," Teyla said, bowing in return. Rodney bowed, too; it was awkward, bowing seated, but over the years he'd learned how without feeling too stupid.

They sat in silence, sipping their tea, while the kids ran in circles around the tables; Rodney started to sort them out. Four boys and five girls, all dressed cleanly but in patched clothes. Barefoot, but then Rodney was barefoot, too; it was more comfortable on board, and easier to keep his balance. The anti-emetic was keeping his stomach settled, but it was making him dozy, too. He stared out the open doors, latched back to keep them from slamming in the wind. The ship was anchored, but rode the wind like the river, rising and falling. Beyond the doors, he could see only the trees on the far bank, flailing in the wind, a green river tossed by the storm.

His eyes closed, and then Teyla said, "Come to bed, Rodney." He opened them to see her smiling at him, handing his mug to Amal. He took her hand and they returned to their quarters, staggering like drunks, laughing at their haphazard progress.

The storm blew itself out in the night, so Rodney woke the next day to the sound of commerce: boats lowered and raised, people shouting and laughing and cursing. A pale blue light spilled from the slatted windows onto his bed; he was alone. Teyla's nightgown folded under her pillow told him she had risen early, and he hoped she'd bring him tea in bed. He stretched and rolled onto his side, staring out through the slats. He couldn't see much, just movement of the bright colours that the people in Qash harbour wore.

They'd lost no time due to the storm, since they'd left Ardq early. The time on the river was Rodney's favourite, though his real task was onshore, and Teyla enjoyed bartering in the ports. He always accompanied her, admiring her skill, but mostly admiring her. She'd aged better than he had, he thought, self-consciously running a hand over his head. But even Teyla had grey in her hair now, something she didn't care for, and something Rodney found charming -- both the grey, and her frustration at it. He'd explained about Lady Clairol, but even if it had been available, she wasn't interested. "I should not be so vain," she'd say, staring helplessly into the mirror.

Each time, he would kiss her shoulders and neck, and then the offending streaks of grey. "You are more beautiful than ever," he'd say, and he meant it, every word, every time.

Now he watched her walk in the sun that managed to splash its way through the thick jungle canopy. They always walked up the locks, rather than wait on the ship. All locks were markets full of surprises: tiny monkey-like creatures at this one were revered as guardians, so they darted and bounced through the narrow streets, disrupting business transactions and stealing the fruit left to propitiate them. They annoyed Rodney, but he'd grown used to them and knew better than to do more than scowl at their antics. Besides, their capers sometimes gave him funny stories to tell at home.

"Look, Rodney," Teyla called as they approached a stall mounded with dried and fresh fruit.

"Oh, yes," he said.

"Now go away. You look too eager," she told him, so he slipped away before the merchant could see how much he loved the sweet dried figs. He knew Teyla would find something to trade for them, and she'd get more if he weren't drooling over them.

Besides, he knew where he was going; they'd passed a merchant's stall with rings and necklaces and bracelets, many made of beaten copper, similar to the ones they'd seen earlier in the journey. He was determined to find perfect gifts. He disliked haggling, but he had a length of soft _tensa_ , a material much like silk, just as delicate, dyed a pale blue that faded into rose. He thought he could get several of the thin delicate bracelets for it, and he hoped more, if he were careful and didn't reveal how much he wanted them. He wasn't sure what else he wanted, but he knew he'd know when he saw it.

He tried to look bored as he picked through the stock, setting aside a few bracelets he didn't care for, and several rings he had no intention of buying. This was the part he didn't like; he'd never been good at pretence. "How much?" he asked, picking up a ring lumpy with green stones.

"What do you offer?" the merchant said slyly.

Rodney scratched his neck. "Hm. I think I'll look around a bit more." The merchant called after him, but Rodney knew it was best to walk away now. It was hard, though; he'd seen a cluster of thin bracelets that would look beautiful on Teyla's graceful wrist, and he wanted them. All of them, not just two. This would take time.

He treated himself to a paper cone of _conchos_ , which he knew were fried insects coated in caramelized sugar, but pretended they were Cracker Jacks. High in protein, too, he thought, popping another one into his mouth. He wondered if Teyla had the dried figs yet. Maybe they could go to the tea house they usually ate at; he really liked their food. His stomach growled; the _conchos_ were only whetting his appetite.

Teyla was waiting for him near the wharf, watching the monkeys harass sailors unloading bales of paper wrapped in heavy leaves. "Hungry?" she asked him, smiling knowingly. She held out a large round container made of woven straw. "Figs!" he said, delighted with her success. She hid it quickly behind her back. "After our meal," she scolded him, but he only kissed her for her good work.

After lunch, she took her goods, including most of the figs, back to the ship while Rodney hurried back to the copper-jewelry merchant. Teyla would be back soon; they neither enjoyed the slow rise of the ship from lock to lock. "How much?" he demanded, picking up several bracelets he'd seen earlier.

Barter, he thought sourly. Related to the English word _barratry_ ; he'd looked it up once and had decided the etymology justified his dislike of the activity. Not that he'd ever tell Teyla.

When he at last drew out the _tensa_ , the merchant's eyes popped, just for an instant, but long enough that Rodney knew he'd get everything he wanted. A few minutes later, he heard Teyla's voice, so he grabbed his goods and let the _tensa_ drift sensually onto the bracelet-strewn table. "Done!" shouted the merchant, staring at it, and Rodney turned, beaming, holding out the bracelets in the palm of one hand, shoving the other gifts into a pocket. "For you," he gasped, as breathless as if he'd run a race.

"Oh, Rodney!" Teyla cried, and kissed him. He slid the bracelets onto her hand, and then kissed her hand gallantly.

"Beauties for a beauty," he said, knowing he was flushed, but making his loved ones happy was the Nobel prize in his life in this galaxy.

She wore the bracelets every day. They made a tiny jangling sound, like distant bells, and that reminded him of Kampang. That night, she slid them around his erect prick and sucked him off with them bumping her nose, jingling in rhythm with his thrusts and cries.

"I'll never be able to see them without getting hard," he told her afterwards, dazed and sleepy. The ship was underway again, moving up-river, and he could hear the water surge around their bow, the splash of the river against the bank, the call of birds and animals hidden in the foliage. He breathed in the heavy river air, sighing happily, and fell asleep, rocked in Teyla's and the Kumyang's arms.

The two families disembarked in Qts, and a small herd of elderly women clambered aboard, seamstresses, Teyla told him, going to the market at the next and final lock, Qao. "See," one crone said, holding out a length of heavily embroidered cloth. "For the wedding."

"Wa marries," another said, but Rodney already knew. He did pay attention to his surroundings these days; that was now part of his job. "Will you stay for the ceremony?"

He shook his head. "We are going to Kampang," he said, and all the old ladies ooohed.

"Holy city," the first one said. "Fortunate beings."

"Yes, we are," Teyla said, slipping her arm around Rodney's waist as she sat next to him on a bench on the lower deck. Too many stairs to the upper decks, the ladies had said, declining to accompany them up for the view.

The _Ghedun Angel_ labored on through the water, always upstream. The river grew more narrow and twisty, winding its serpentine way through the jungle. In some places Rodney saw that the ship actually passed beneath the canopy; the towering trees leaned that far out over the river. He watched the play of sunlight scatter across the deck, flashing on the water, blinding him. He shut his eyes against the light and dozed, Teyla a comfortable prop at his side. Amal brought them more tea, and a new steward came onboard at Araq to rush to obey Amal.

They disembarked at the locks at Qao as usual, spending a full day in the market. Teyla made substantial purchases there, bartering the goods they'd bartered for at the seaport so many miles below and weeks behind them for the goods available only in Qao. Medicine, mostly: jugs of herbs floating in vinegar, what looked to Rodney like a bowl of red eyeballs, a thick stack of dried seaweed that, when soaked in warm water and sucked, soothed a sore throat. She bartered while he oversaw the exchange, folding his arms and trying to look forbidding. The rest of their time they spent wandering the stalls, Rodney examining the goods carefully but fruitlessly.

"Let's go to Cha-wu," he suggested their last night in port. They served an excellent tea there, with lots of little goodies Rodney loved, including _xonqa_ , and he remembered that their _qoosh_ was exceptional. They had nowhere to go now but back to the ship; tomorrow they would sail for Kampang.

Rodney raised his glass to Teyla. "To the most beautiful being on the river," he said. "To the woman I love most in two galaxies."

To his pleasure, she flushed prettily, smiling at him, and tears came to his eyes. He'd given up so much; no, so much had been _taken_ from him, but he had this: his life, his health, a glass of _qoosh_ , a meal with a beautiful woman who loved him, and a home he loved waiting for him. The exchange, he thought, was fair. Well, nothing in the universe was fair, but there was a kindness here, and for that Rodney was grateful.

Teyla shook her bracelets then, smiling knowingly as he shifted in his seat. "Oh dear," he said facetiously. "Look what you've done to me."

"Is that my fault?" she asked, coquettish in a way she rarely was. "Then it shall be my responsibility."

"You bet it will be," he said, and ate another _xonqa_.

Their last day on the river, they stood on deck in the bow watching for Kampang. How he loved Kampang, Rodney thought. The name, ringing in his heart, the bell of this world. Holy, holy, and ever more holy.

Before them, the mountains rose, always covered in snow. "Look," Teyla pointed. "The Three Glaciers." They gleamed in the morning light. They'd been away so long. Rodney was the only one with both the knowledge and the ability to do this task, but his heart ached to return. The approach from the river was from the east, so the morning light fell on the holy mountain, a blessing in its own right. Even at this distance, he could see the temple roofs glowing pale rose.

"And there's Yum," Teyla added, meaning one of the smaller temples with a narrow peaked roof. The top glittered: ice already covered it. Putting his arm around Teyla, he stared up at the mountains, at the temples, at the place he most wished to be.

The ship took the better part of the day to reach Kampang, winding carefully through the ever-narrowing channel that had been dredged. The river here was shallow, but to reach the holy city, workers had deepened it, and each year in the late autumn, before the rainy season, a week holiday from all work except clearing the channel involved everyone, from eldest to youngest citizen and all visitors. The ship was winched the last few hundred metres, the channel was that narrow and sinuous. "You are in a maze of twisty passages, all alike," Rodney murmured.

Teyla rested her head against his shoulder. "You always say that here." He kissed the top of her head and waited. Soon, now. Their personal items were packed, stacked in their quarters, and the goods Teyla had bargained so hard for waiting to be off-loaded. As they drew near the pier, Rodney saw someone waving a hat. "Who is it?" he asked, frowning and peering at the movement.

"Radek," Teyla said excitedly, and they both began to wave wildly.

Here in Kampang, the pier was built so they could, for the first time since the seaport, walk off, rather than waiting to be ferried ashore. Radek beamed at them, his glasses steaming with excitement and cold. "At last!" he said as they hugged. Rodney held tightly onto his old friend. "It has been too long," Radek scolded them, kissing Teyla and hugging Rodney again. "Here, Vai, fetch Doctor Rodney's and Missus Teyla's things. Run, now!"

Vai ran, first taking Teyla's and then Rodney's hands in greeting. "Welcome home, Holy Ones," he smiled at them, and then dashed up the gangway.

"Come, come," Radek said, and they pushed their way through the crowd. "There's a long walk as you know."

Rodney did know, but the air of Kampang filled his lungs and lightened his heart. Even his knees felt better here, when he climbed the steep streets. Houses were built right to the street, with heavy overhangs to protect from the rain and snow, but in the middle of the street light fell, reflecting brilliantly back from the rime.

"Is everyone well at home?" Teyla asked Radek.

"Everyone is fine," he reassured her. "Anxious for your return and any news. Did you get everything?"

"No Ancient technology," Rodney interrupted.

"Did you expect any? After all this time?"

"Rodney always hopes," Teyla said, taking his arm. "He always looks, and he always hopes." Rodney pursed his lips and looked up at the sky, but refused to admit she was right. Not to Radek, at least.

He grew a little breathless as they climbed, and Radek began nursing his bad ankle, so they stopped at a little tea house, the Cha-Lim, for tea and greetings. "Welcome home, welcome home!" the tea mistress called, her staff clearing a table for them right by the road, so all could see the Holy Ones visiting, Rodney knew. Still, he basked in the attention, letting the mistress choose specialties for him to nibble on while he sipped tea and rested.

"What sights did you see, Doctor Rodney?" she asked him, settling onto the banquette next to him.

"The river," he said through a mouthful of river-rice with chestnuts. "Fog. Rain. A really big storm just north of Ardq."

"Rodney," Teyla said, putting a hand over his knee and squeezing. "What do you mean, Mistress?"

"Did you find the Ancient Ones you seek?"

Teyla shook her head. "No. I fear they are truly gone."

"Only the Holy Ones remain," the mistress said, sighing dramatically. "Such a romantic story. Tell us, Missus. Tell us again."

The entire tea room quieted; one man put his little daughter on his knee, whispering into her ear. Rodney didn't like this part. He looked at Radek, who said, "Perhaps now, coming from their journey, isn't a good time. But you all know the story anyway. We saw the Ancient Ones; they came to us, but they wanted their home. We obeyed them, of course, but then something happened. We've been trying to find out what ever since."

But the audience remained quiet, watching them. No one spoke. At last, Rodney said, "They're not coming back. They're never coming back." He stood up. "Thank you, Mistress." He stumped down the steps into the street and waited for Teyla and Radek to apologize for his behaviour. Well, too bad.

They were used to it anyway.

Vai came up the street, Rodney's and Teyla's packs on his back. "Hey, Doctor Rodney!" he called cheerfully. "Did you wait for me?"

Rodney grinned at him. Vai was a smart kid; he'd been in Rodney's physics classes and was now doing independent work under Radek's supervision. Teyla and Radek joined them, and they began working their way through the streets again.

"Sorry," Rodney said finally, to break the silence.

"Ach," Radek said. "You are tired. Long trip, long time away."

"Well. As much as I like to talk, I don't like that story."

"We know, Rodney," Radek said. He looked tired. "None of us do."

"What's been going on?" Rodney asked him. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Better now that you're back. You can do your own work for a while."

Rodney scowled at him, but he was too breathless to snap back.

Vai said, "Should we stop?"

Rodney shook his head.

They went beneath the Bridge of Martyrs, dark and chill, and Rodney was silent, listening to their echoing footsteps on the cold stone, crunching through the icy puddles. Then they walked into the brilliant cold sunshine on the other side and climbed the steep Bridge of Five Sisters, five layers of bridges, Rodney huffing without any dignity, his face hot even in the gelid air of late autumn.

They stopped, as was the custom, in the middle of Third Sister Bridge and stared out, away from the mountain, down the gorge. Rodney saw the _Ghedun Angel_ as tiny as a toy wedged into the gleaming thread of the Kumyang River's headwaters. Shelves of russet tile roofs terraced the hills this side of the river, the holy city of Kampang, the highest city in the world, and Rodney's home for the last fifteen years.

"Bless," Radek said, ending some silent prayer. Teyla cast petals from the _tishan_ tree that she carried all the way from the seaport; they wafted on air currents, dancing up and then swirling around and down. Eventually, Rodney thought, they'll return to the sea in some form. From the stars to the sea; that was his path, and he hoped he would return to the stars again someday.

Without words, they turned and climbed the rest of the way until they stood before the graceful arch over the entryway of their home. They paused, and then Rodney stepped over the threshold. The walls glowed and bells rang out, welcoming them back. He glanced at Teyla, who smiled wearily and happily. He took her hand, and then took Radek's cold one. Vai followed them, humming a prayer.

They walked through the vestibule, noisy with bells, and into the atrium where the plum trees grew, heavy with fruit this time of year. Rodney picked one from the nearest tree and smelled it luxuriously. He offered it to Teyla, who took a bite carefully, juice swelling around her lips and dripping into Rodney's hand. She licked his hand, looking flirtatiously up at him, and he kissed her hand quickly, licking his lips at the sweet taste. Then he offered the fruit to Radek, who laughed at him but accepted the plum and sucked at it.

When Rodney looked up from Radek, he saw John leaning against one of the trees, half-full basket at his feet. Rodney felt a rush of pleasure and relief so profound that he had to look away for a moment. Sunlight streamed down from far above, bouncing off the ocher walls of the temple. A dozen balcony railings circled above him; he often thought that looking up from the atrium was like looking through an enormous telescope, out into the universe. In a few weeks, the opening would be shuttered against the winter, so he stood for a moment, head tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the last of the sunlight.

Then he looked back at John, the still center of Rodney's universe. He hadn't moved; his arms were crossed and his eyebrows raised. The golden light shone on him; streaks of white gleamed in his hair. His sleeves were rolled up, showing his muscular forearms and worn leather wristband. "Still rakish," Rodney said, trying to scowl, but he was too happy to be home, too delighted to see John again after his weeks away. "Come here," he said, and held out his arms. John pushed off from the tree and with the loose-limbed grace he still had all these years later came to Rodney. "Mmm, you smell good," Rodney told him. "Like plums and sunshine."

"You smell like river water," John said, his nose brushing Rodney's cheek. He nuzzled Rodney, his breath warm in Rodney's ear and on his throat, and then Rodney kissed him, pulling him as closely as he could. He could hear the others now, greeting Teyla, voices crying out from the upper stories, someone calling, "Chuck! Chuck, they're back!" He heard Irenke Biro's voice, and then Ronon's, but he paid them no attention.

"Hello," Rodney whispered between kisses. "I missed you. God knows why," he added, embarrassed at his passion, "but I really did."

"Hey," John said, and they rested their foreheads together. "Bring me anything cool?"

"Have to ask Teyla about that," Rodney said, but he pulled from his pocket the leather cord strung with beaten copper beads that he'd bartered so hard for. John put out his hand and Rodney wrapped it around his wrist and then kissed John's wrist, feeling his pulse beneath his lips.

John laughed, his crazy laugh that Rodney loved, and hugged him again. "Teyla!" he shouted in Rodney's ear.

"Ow," he sulked, but stepped aside so John could swing Teyla up into an enormous hug while Rodney was seized by Ronon and lifted off the ground. "Hey, hey," he complained, but Ronon kissed his neck, so he twisted his head round enough to kiss Ronon back. "Glad to see you, too."

"You're such a _concho_ ," Ronon said, setting him down gently to give him a proper hug.

"What? A bug?"

"Crunchy but sweet," Ronon told him. "How is Teyla?"

"Tired, I think." They turned to look at her with John, their heads close together, up to some mischief, Rodney thought. "But I did my best."

Ronon squeezed Rodney tightly and kissed the top of his head. "You did a good job."

Elizabeth came slowly down the stairs, leaning heavily on her cane. She and Radek made jokes about being a matched pair: her right knee and his left ankle had never fully healed from the final hurried departure from Atlantis, but she was still interested in everything that went on in Kampang.

"I heard the bells," she said. "Why didn't anyone get me?"

"We would come to you," Teyla said, kissing her gently. Radek held Elizabeth tenderly; Rodney knew he'd scold her later for taking all those stairs when now they had to turn around and climb back up. "The children?" Teyla asked, looking around.

"In school, Missus," Vai said. "Shall I bring them?"

"Not just yet, please," Rodney said. "We'll see them soon enough." Ronon growled, and Teyla made a face at him but didn't disagree.

They walked through the plum trees, stepping carefully through the high grass, Radek and Ronon holding Elizabeth's elbows, and then began the climb up to Elizabeth's rooms. Rodney knew the others would talk for hours if he'd let them, but he really wanted a hot soak and to be alone with John

But when they reached Elizabeth's doors, swung open revealing her lush taste in furnishings, John pulled Rodney away. "Later!" he called back, and Rodney waved apologetically.

"Thank you, thank you," he breathed gratefully as they climbed the steps past the classrooms where Rodney had spent so many hours, past his lab, stopping to stick his head in and glare at his subordinates, but John dragged him out and on to the next floor, the library where Elizabeth trained her apprentices in Ancient and information systems, and then to the fifth floor, to the fifth door, locked.

John grinned at him, making Rodney's heart clutch. Together, they rested their right hands flat on the door panel, and the doors swung open. The room within glowed. John had a fire burning, so the air was warm and inviting, and Rodney saw hot water steaming in a kettle. A wooden tray with little bowls of river-rice and condiments had been set next to the fire, and there was a glass pitcher of _qoosh_. "Oh, if that water's for a bath, I will love you forever," Rodney said happily, and let John pull off his clothes. "Actually, I'll love you forever anyway."

But John didn't pour a bath; he grabbed Rodney and kissed him again, running his hands up and down Rodney's body. "You feel so good," he whispered, and Rodney groaned in excitement and pleasure.

"I have to, I _have_ to," Rodney whispered back, and they fell onto the bed, John still dressed, Rodney lying heavily on top of him, pushing against him as they kissed and grinned at each other.

But John tenderly took Rodney's head in his hands and held him for a few seconds, staring into his eyes, then at his lips. Rodney sighed with happiness. _It had begun with a kiss_ , he remembered, and it had, a kiss that changed his life and brought him so far from Atlantis and even farther from Earth. Kisses could do that, he thought; change a life, change the world. They're powerful, a kind of fusion of energies that produces something else entirely. Never in his life had he imagined lying in bed with someone like John, aching to be touched by him, to touch him, to rub his hands firmly over John's body, feeling his nipples harden and his prick rise.

Then John kissed him, and Rodney forgot all that: all they'd left behind, losing Earth, losing Atlantis, watching it sink beneath the ocean while he wept inside a jumper, John's jumper hovering nearby; he forgot their life of permanent exile. Because now, _exile_ had become _home_. Here Radek and Elizabeth had formed a family, and here Ronon and Teyla had made beautiful children, and here were even some of the Athosians, come with them to this place, making yet another home. And here was John beneath him, loving him, scrabbling at his clothes, getting in Rodney's way.

Rodney didn't let himself think of Atlantis often, but in his dreams he saw it again and again, sinking beneath the ocean when the fucking Ancients stole his home, hiding it, first beneath the sea and then, no doubt, invisibly beneath a shield, or maybe flying it somewhere else. The Ancients were jerks. He and John and the others had left Earth to reclaim Atlantis and to rejoin with Teyla and Ronon, and ended up watching the submersion. Rodney had been piloting one jumper, nearly blind with tears and anger. He and John had flown their jumpers packed with survivors and the injured to the mainland, stunned with their loss. Lorne had wanted to go back to Earth, to turn himself in, but most of the others wanted to stay in Pegasus. So they'd lived with the Athosians for a while, until the first Wraith attack, when Rodney realized how indefensible they were without Atlantis to help.

The arrival of the Wraith had thus almost been a relief to him; something tangible to be angry at, a problem to be solved. He and Radek and the others who'd decided to stay had worked with stolen technology to create a small shield under which they could hide, but without a ZPM, they couldn't do much or very often. They needed more Ancient technology, and so Rodney and John began what they called the scavenger hunt.

They flew to so many planets, hoping the others would still be there when they returned. The last time they'd returned in the midst of an attack. "Cloak the jumper! Cloak the jumper!" Rodney had shouted, leaping to his feet in his anxiety. "Oh, fuck the Ancients!" he'd said. "Just _fuck_ them." They watched anxiously, but the tiny shield held, and the Wraith left. When the little settlement re-appeared beneath them, Rodney had turned to John, weak with relief, grateful, angry, burdened, afraid. But he had John, he'd realized, staring at him, and that's when they came together. Their new lives had begun with that kiss.

When they'd landed, it had all changed. That kiss, that moment of desperate passion while hovering invisibly above the mainland, had spun the galaxy with their suddenly combined kinetic energy. "That's it," Rodney had announced to the settlement. "That is _it_. I'm through, I've had it, I've got my own agenda and it doesn't include being sucked dry by the Wraith. I've seen it too many times," he said more quietly, glancing at John, and swallowing. He cleared his throat. "The Athosians have no reason to be here, no more than we do. I'm going to find all the leftover Ancient technology in this galaxy and _do_ something."

Radek had beamed at him, his leg elevated and still wrapped in plaster. Elizabeth smiled more wanly; he knew she was still in a lot of pain. Ronon put his arm around Teyla and nodded at Rodney. Most of the Athosians nodded, too; even the kids had paused to stare at Doctor Rodney standing stern and forbidding, making his pronouncement.

At least, he hoped he had looked stern and forbidding. He'd felt shaken to the core. Only the knowledge that John was beside him, was _with_ him, had kept him upright.

And now, he thought, sighing in exhaustion, now they were home.

John rolled Rodney over so he could kick off his trousers and straddle him. Rodney couldn't stop looking at John, couldn't stop touching him. Weeks away from him twice a year; necessary work, yes, and work no one else could really do, not Radek, not even John, but each time it was harder and harder to say goodbye, and for what? he asked himself. John began to move, slowly sliding his prick along Rodney's, but Rodney wanted John to fuck him. He wrapped his hand around John's hot prick and held firmly, letting him slide through two, three times, before saying, "Where's the goop?"

John laughed again, and bent down to kiss him, one hand scrabbling at the side of the bed for the small pot they kept nearby. Rodney shoved him off and rolled onto his stomach, spreading his legs as invitingly as he could. He knew his ass was white as Earth's full moon, but John seemed to like it; he started kissing and licking and biting at Rodney, who pushed into the bed, shivering with excitement. "Oh, god," he said when John's finger slid into him, and he opened his legs wider, pushing up onto his knees a bit. "Just fuck me. Just, come _on_ ," so John did, perfect after all these years of practice.

Rodney groaned; he wanted this more than he could ever express. There was no equation to illustrate the action of love and lust on bodies, only the wordless moan of pleasure. He wanted John to empty himself into Rodney; he loved that moment when John froze, sweating and trembling above him, and then cried out, and Rodney shuddered with his own orgasm, slower but deep, from his belly out, an utter surrender to their bodies' joining, nothing like coming with Teyla, or Ronon, or with anyone Rodney had ever known.

He wiped his face on the covers, feeling John slip from his body, an awkward sensation and still a little embarrassing. "Come here," he murmured sleepily, and John burrowed next to him, throwing the covers over them. "I was remembering," he said.

"You always do, when you get home," John said, a light in his eye. "You're such a romantic."

Rodney made a noise, but it was true; he admitted to himself it was true. No use letting John know he was right, though. No use giving the man another weapon. "Well, it's a good memory," Rodney finally said.

"It's a great memory," John said, pouting.

"Yes, yes, best in the universe."

"Well?"

"Well what? Oh god, no, not you. Another story?" He sighed dramatically, and slid his leg between John's, feeling his prick warm and damp on his thigh. "Once upon a time, this guy kissed me. I nearly decked him, but then I thought: hey. This guy can really kiss."

"You liar. You know you kissed me first. I nearly shot you in self-defense."

"You did not. You tried to climb inside my pants."

"You'd been trying to get in my pants for _years_."

"You were too busy with Ascended women to notice; how would you know?"

"So you admit that you kissed me first."

"I admit nothing."

They grinned at each other, and then Rodney sighed. He really was tired. Those trips took a lot out of him, and he was already wondering what he'd missed in the labs while he was away. He moved closer to John and closed his eyes. Just a nap, he told himself.

He didn't dream of Atlantis sinking beneath the sea while he sailed away from it. He didn't dream of the stars he'd grown to love. He didn't dream of seeking a way back.

He dreamt of _home_ , he dreamt of _family_ : he dreamt of _John_.

 _All good love stories begin with a kiss_ , Teyla liked to tell the children. In his dream, Rodney smiled, and smacked his lips, smiled again, and dreamt of John.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> A few additional [notes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/170051) about the story.


End file.
